January 2009



Made the lightest gingerbread cake several hours after (almost) shedding my first-ever tear over an opera performance… A film of one of Leonard Bernstein’s legendary "Concerts for Young People" at Lincoln Center… the 1970 one about Beethoven’s only opera, ‘Fidelis.’ That must’ve been one hell of a field trip.

(Sent from my Palm phone.)
(Sent from my Palm phone.)

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(Sent from my Palm phone.)


Up early, up late.

And to think this was nearly a wordless posting.

(Sent from my Palm phone.)


Sloppy rainy-dirty-snow-slush all day. I’ve noticed that every year, right around this last week of January, everyone in New York simultaneously loses patience with Winter and begins to broadcast a subtle desperation. Byron and I kept writing that song today… a process that often feels akin to solving a crossword puzzle.

(Sent from my Palm phone.)


Byron (Isaacs) came over this morning. We drank tea and developed the song I’d started over the weekend. Together, songwriting was fully enjoyable and agony-free.

(Sent from my Palm phone.)


A sunnier day. Started a rough mix of the December recording of ‘Car,’ and work on writing the new song came easy. Last couple days I’ve put Mozart piano Sonatas on any chance I get, maybe because of its melodic giggliness.

(Sent from my Palm phone.)


Sunday. Worked more on the song in fits and starts all day. Songwriting is often agonizing for me – a truth that I’m not a bit proud of. Agony is the rightful provence of, oh say, General Washington’s starved troops over the bleak New Jersey Winter of 1781. They boiled and ate their boots. How can I ascribe anything like agony to a Sunday spent sitting at a white piano in a heated apartment. Yet I speaketh only troof.

(Sent from my Palm phone.)

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